Welcome to Skyrim
by SaamuelSylvester
Summary: An unlucky event turns into a nightmare for a death bound prisoner. This is how he lived to tell the tale.


Light shines through the slits of opening eyelids from a long sleep. Dazed and unsure of his moving surroundings, the prisoner blinks in confusion as he looks around the forest a horse drawn carriage drags him and a few other nords through the rather cold weather. A deathly silence around the area as the escort continues down a stone path towards the Gods-know where before it's broken by the man sitting across from the awakened prisoner.

"Hey, you, you're finally awake." Before the silent prisoner can reply, the man in blue armor talks once again. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush same as us and that thief over there."

He opens his mouth to reply, curious now about where he was and where he was going, but is quickly cut off again by the previously mentioned thief just a second before. "Damn you Stormcloaks..." The prisoner shuts his mouth and waits now for his turn to speak, whenever it may come. The thief continues. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you I'd have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

The prisoner guessed that answers where they are. Skyrim. But it still doesn't answer where they're going. He had been traveling to Morrowind from Daggerfall. Having lived there for his whole life, his recent decisions gave him the good idea it was time to leave. Being in prison a few times for thievery, the idea to make a new life elsewhere was so close to becoming true. He only needs to cross Skyrim into the desired destination. Though right now most likely on his way to a prison again. He thinks to himself that this is but a minor set back, and once things are settled out about his passing through, he will be on his merry way. Maybe even get an escort for an apology because the misunderstanding. Things seem very optimistic for him now, and he shows off a small smile. But is soon lost when he hears the thief speak directly to him.

"You there. You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." he says.

The words stir in the prisoner's head. _What are Stormcloaks, and why does the Empire want them so bad? Are they a part of the Dark Brotherhood, or the Thieves' Guild? No, not the Thieves' Guild, otherwise the thief would know he belongs here..._ But he shakes off the curiousity. Whoever these Stormcloaks are, they've already caused enough troubles with him, and all he did was just enter Skyrim to pass through it.

Holding his tongue seemed best to do in the situation, because, as he figured, the soldier sitting in front of him speaks before he has a chance. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now."

As if waiting for a chance to talk wasn't enough, the driver of the carriage calls back to the men talking to stay quiet. The prisoner looked back to the others, he had just noticed the one sitting next to him was gagged. He wore nearly the same armor that the other soldier wore, making the assumption that they are from the same cult or whatever. However, the addition of fur not only made the prisoner uneasy, but also gave him the notation that he is higher class than the other man in blue.

He also guessed the thief noticed as well. Soon he had made his own comment on the gagged prisoner. "What's wrong with him, huh?"

"Watch your tongue!" The other soldier is quick to answer. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king."

The prisoner's heart skips a beat at the title _True High King._ _How important is this guy?_ He thinks to himself.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. If they captured you..." The thief's eyes widen by the thought before he looks around the Imperial escort. "Oh gods, where are they taking us?" he exclaims.

A sudden wave of worry washes over the prisoner as well when he is given the information. So many new questions arise as his heartbeat quickens, almost sounding like a war drum if one listens close enough. The conversation only seems to worsen for the group as it continues when the soldier replies. "I don't know where we are going, but Sovngarde awaits."

"No...This can't be happening!" the thief continues excitedly. "This isn't happening!"

Though the situation seems grim, the soldier kept a calm and collective voice the prisoner couldn't even understand how it were possible to keep. "Hey, what village are you from, horse-thief?"

A brief hesitation passes from the thief as he is asked the question, being the last thing he thought would be asked of him. His spoke softly. "Why do you care?"

"A nord's last thoughts should be of home."

Another hesitation passes, but the thief soon responds. "Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead."

The prisoner hadn't noticed how long he was looking to those behind him, for the next voice he heard just a second later was one he hadn't recognized from the group. It passed them as they went buy the guard on the road, calling out, "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting." Looking back forward, he notices the entrance to a town. The fear rising up through his spine as he imagines the waiting headsmen with his large axe at the ready for the execution for the soldiers around him. He also begins to think of a way to explain his situation to keep from having his own head removed for the misunderstanding.

Another voice calls out from somewhere on the escort where he cannot pinpoint the exact location, stating they would just like to get this over with. The soldier in front of him seemed to set his eyes on a particular guard as they made their way into the town, speaking with a hint of rage in his voice to whomever is listening while the thief begs the gods. "Look at him. General Tullius, the Military. And it looks like the Thalmor is with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this." The prisoner doesn't answer as he watches the soldier gaze around the town while they ride through it, starting in a calmer, more thoughtful voice. "This is Helgen...I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Velod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." Again, another hesitation as he draws in a slow breath, then releases it even slower. His eyes set on the stone work of the walls around us before setting on a child watching the escort pass. "Funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

The prisoner looked as well. The boy was not even ten, it seemed, and had his eyes set on the captives with a tilt of his head to prove his innocence to the situation at hand. "Who are they, daddy?" he says to his father standing over him. "Where are they going?"

The father knows exactly why the prisoners are in the city, and to keep his child from eagerly watching, he sends the boy inside. The child moves, but his words try to change his father's mind until he is once again told to leave, which he does with one last glance at the patrol. Watching only makes the prisoner's stomach churn in discomfort. How he longed for being in that child's position right now, where he would no longer have to fear for his life the next few minutes. But there's still a chance he can talk his way out of it, which is what his mind is suddenly set on when he looks back forward to see a priestess, more Imperial guards, and the block with the awaiting headsmen.

The carriage driver comes to a stop next to the others where people are called by the name from lists and ushered off by a female Imperial. The prisoner stands with the others as they spoke to one another, but he didn't hear a thing they said from his thoughts of what to say when his name is called. His heart excited more than ever before from the end of his thoughts drawing near. His eyes watch as Ulfric was called up to the front first, listening without turning his head to the other soldier they had rode with. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Then, his own name is called before Ralof of Riverwood is sent to stand by his Stormcloak brothers and sisters to await their turn on the block.

Next the thief was called, revealing him to be Lokir. When he stepped forward he had the same idea the prisoner had. As he claimed he shouldn't be here, the prisoner looked down to his tied together wrists to compare the similarities. _We both shouldn't be here...or should we? We are both thieves, both trying to get to a different country to start over again, at least I'd hope he is, and both of us are scared about the near future. We were caught at what seemed to be an unfair trial, but..._

"Halt!" an imperial cries out. His thoughts are broken immediately as he looks up once again to see that Lokir has started to run off. Staying quiet as usual thus far, the prisoner only watches as he is quickly shot down by an Imperial archer.

A higher ranked soldier turns to everyone else to sternly ask if anyone else would like to run, having shown the result of such actions by killing the horse-thief on his own attempt. Her question is met with silence before a new question is asked to the prisoner.

"Wait...you there, step forward." Says a man holding a list in his hand with the look of confusion on his face. His eyes seem to dart back and forth between the list and last prisoner before his questions arise once more. "Who are you?"

The question startled the prisoner. He hadn't thought of it before now, that he didn't have to keep the same name as his, what he started to view as, his previous life. He could choose any name he pleases and everyone here will think it is his name. His real name. But he had to think fast, because after opening his mouth and closing it again during these thoughts caused the female Imperial to prod for the answer in the same harsh voice as before. "Speak now, Khajiit."

The cat darts his eyes to look at her in a little scare from the interruption from his thoughts before his lips spread once more to answer. "Sasrin" the name of his mother, which makes his face churn a little. From the only names of his race that he knew, he had to choose the only female one. The only one that had come to his mind, filling himself up with disappointment but tries to not let it show. It's been done, his name is now Sasrin. Sasrin the male Khajiit with a female name. Once more, he cringes at the thought. Even his old name of Dar'Ahdawi would give him more honor. What a nice start to his new life.

The Imperial noticed the discomfort from the Khajiit, probably thinking something is up before he speaks with a cocked brow. "You with one of the trade caravans, Khajiit?" Sasrin opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off. He should be used to it by now, he figures, so he just thinks it should be best to keep quiet again until given the chance to explain the situation. The guard looks to his officer to ask, "Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list." The Khajiit looks to the captain with fear combined with pleading expressions on his face in hopes she'd allow them to talk it out.

"Forget the list. He goes straight to the block."  
His heart sinks immediately as his eyes widen. Sasrin looks back and forth between the two, as if looking for some sort of help from someone, but he couldn't think of a reason why he would receive any. Standing with his mouth open, now was the time to say something. But from the rush of his current death sentence being revealed to him, he didn't know a thing to mention or what to explain first before the Imperial speaks again. "By your orders, captain." The male with the list looks to the unfortunate Khajiit. "I'm sorry. We will make sure your remains are sent to Elsweyr."

 _I'm not from Elsweyr,_ Sasrin thinks to himself. Still unable to get the words out as his feet begin to move to stand next to Ralof, the line of prisoners facing the priest and headsmen. _I'm not a part of a trade caravan._ His eyes move around the area as if searching for a way out from the situation, but then down again in defeat when he remembers the horse-thief's attempt just a few minutes beforehand. This makes him worry much more that there's no escape from the unjustified death he is about to be given. _I'm a traveler from Daggerfall heading to Morrowind, I don't belong here!_

A man steps towards the gagged Jarl Ulfric. Sasrin looks up to recognize him from just a brief introduction given to him by Ralof. General Tullius speaks to his gagged rival. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp the throne."

A grunt comes from Ulfric Stormcloak when all eyes set on him. A power like the voice? What does that even mean?

Tullius continues, "You started this war, flung Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."

Heads turn to the sky when an ungodly roar is heard above, ringing over the valley. Sasrin knew nothing of the noise, he couldn't think of a single creature that would sound that way, but maybe the others knew, so he looked around for an explanation. To his surprise, all around were confused faces looking for the same answer before the guard with the list asks, out of everyone's interest, "What was that?"

Tullius turns to him, "It's nothing, carry on." On that note, the priestess is signaled to give the prisoners their last rights.

That didn't sound like nothing to Sasrin, but then again, he doesn't live around these areas. Maybe it's something the General knew about that the others didn't, having to protect other people and all. But he can't think about this anymore, he needs to think of a time to speak up, the right time. Any outburst may lead to him being sent straight to the block without a second thought.

As if the man next to Sasrin had read his mind, he takes a step forward and speaks over the priestess. "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with."

Her hands lower down to her sides slowly from the interruption, watching without flinching as he approaches the block. "As you wish."

"Come on!" He exclaims, stepping before the block. "I haven't got all morning." The Imperial that had sentenced Sasrin to the stone pushes the soldier to his knees in front of the block, which he willingly falls before and allows his head to be positioned for the execution. Sasrin cannot see his glare, but he is sure it is at the headsmen and Imperial captain. The axe is slowly raised up over the executioner's head. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

It was the most blood that Sasrin had ever seen in his life, and more than he ever wanted to see as all that remained of the man's confidence was refined to a limp, headless body profusely bleeding against the cold stone. The head rolled in a basket just slightly under the block before laying still, such as the body when it's pushed off the block to lay beside it instead of on it, watering the ground in what seemed like buckets full of blood. He had to look to the side as Ralof spoke softly. "As fearless in death as he was in life."

"Up next, the cat!" A voice calls.

Sasrin's head jolted up suddenly from the order. His breath was held within his body as he tried to believe he was just imagining the words, and expected the next sound to run through his ears was a reassurance to the harsh truth of reality.

But instead, the powerful roar of an unknown beast rings around the town once again, enough to turn heads like it's previous cry. Sasrin had completely forgotten about it during the beheading he had just witnessed, and he hoped that it would distract the others as well from the call from the captain. His hopes rise up when someone points out the noise once more, but the remark is shut down as the booming voice of the captain orders the Khajiit to the block once more. It takes a little bit of courage from the frightened cat, but his feet make slow steps towards the now bloodied rock with the stench of death rolling around his nostrils. Following in the steps of the Stormcloak before him, Sasrin falls to his knees and is forced forward to push his chest against the cold stone for his execution. Endless thoughts have started running through his mind. Thoughts of home, thoughts of his past choices, thoughts of what his future would have given him if he left only a day later, thoughts of if he only spoke up just a minute before this moment right now. All thoughts seemed as pointless as the last, every worry, every voice in his head shouting to try to defy the unjustified murder, every wish to be back at his home, or even in a cold, uncomfortable prison. The headsman raises his axe slowly, as he did before, but being in the situation only made it seem slower. Sasrin could see his eyes glaring at the furred neck of his victim cowering below. He focused on the details of his masked face, shutting out all that is around him completely to search for a sign of remorse or sorrow about lowering his axe onto the Khajiit. But he couldn't find any. The man didn't know Sasrin, why would he grieve the loss? Only one thought can roam though the Khajiit's mind now.

Sasrin, the male Khajiit with the female name, is going to die.

Suddenly the black figure of the large headsmen falls forward from a booming impact just behind him. Sasrin's eyes do nothing but widen and stare at the sight of what looked like a very large horned bat clinging onto a tower took over the feline's field of vision and focus as it was in the exact location the headsmen had been. Unsure what to do and frozen in fear, he stays still on the block whenever someone calls out as the large jaws of the beast open up. He only manages to hear the word "dragon" be cried out before the rush of air forces Sasrin to fall over the dead body of the Stormcloak from the block, and forces the two to roll back along the ground by a simple roar for the large reptile.

His first instinct is to cover his head and the best he can with his arms, and he plans to stay in that exact position until the beast leaves, or until he is killed. Or the beast is killed, that would be even better. But the three of these options didn't happen as a rough pair of hands grab Sasrin to pull him up to his feet. Looking up, the cat sets his eyes on Ralof, who is seemed to be shouting at him. Sasrin hadn't realized it until then that the only thing that he could hear was a high pitched ring, and his mind starts to wonder again if he had gone deaf. Being brought up to his feet by force, he follows nearly willingly but mostly unconsciously from just being dragged. It looked like Oblivion itself had been released around the entire town to battle the dragon. Sasrin had noticed as he makes his way towards a tower off to the side of the large mess unfolding just a few steps away. By this time his hearing has started to come back. The door is shut behind them upon entering and allows Sasrin to regain his hearing.

As his hearing comes back, he is able to make out the conversation happening between Ralof and a new voice he hadn't heard before, which didn't surprise him much. Now that Sasrin had time to think about it a little, he realizes not much else will be able to surprise him from having that dragon land just before him to stop his execution. He must be the only person to have had that sort of thing happen to him, and will probably be the only one. That felt almost good inside he was special on that note, but the chance of survival is reminded to him as another roar from the dragon is heard, making the building shake just a little bit.

Looking back to Ralof, he notices that the one who he was talking to was the leader of the Stormcloaks himself, now ungagged and without his cuffs. Desiring to have no bindings on him at all anymore, the Khajiit walks over as his eyes search the man's hands, finding no utensil to help him out. Ralof, however, was holding a dagger as they made conversation, revealing he is the one who can set Sasrin free. Ralof looked to Sasrin upon his approach, and clearly had different things on his mind when his first exclamation to the cat of little stature and words was, "We need to move, now!"

Still caught up with his bindings problem, Sasrin once again completely forgot about the more important situation at hand, to which he replied to Ralof with a simple nod before following him up the steps of the guard tower. Gazing up the rugged stone incline, Sasrin watched as another Stormcloak had been beaconing the others up to him like he has found a safe route out or something. This made Sasrin feel just a little bit safer to know that soon he can just wait this whole thing out before leaving this damned land for Morrowind, so he tried to quicken his footsteps.

Utter shock and horror is introduced to the poor cat once more when the stone wall is violently broken right beside the man who became a promise of safety in Sasrin's mind. The heavy stone from the broken wall kills the Stormcloak almost immediately on impact, falling limp under multiple heavy rocks. Coming to a complete halt just steps away from the gruesome scene, the three are only forced to look away from the disaster when the nose of the dragon is seen just barely out of the tower to release a blinding burst of fire down into the building. Sasrin is barely able of seeing the area the unforgiving fire seems to hit before stumbling back.

Sasrin falls onto Ralof in the fear for his life, but is rebound quickly to be set straight up again. The sound of the scorching fire soon is relieved of the area, allowing the group to look out of the large hole that had opened up. Sasrin's eyes move to the stairs when he makes sure the dragon is no longer there to see that rubble had blocked the path from climbing any further up. He had no ideas on what to do, and looked at the others he stood with for guidance, which they gave when glances were exchanged. "See the inn on the other side, Khajiit?" Ralof shouts to him. When Sasrin looks down to where he had spoken of he nods. The roof had fallen in just on one side of the house, perfect to peek down into. But Sasrin failed to see the importance of the inn before Ralof once again barked orders at him to jump over the edge with a little pull by the arm to usher him to be faster. "Jump through the roof and keep going! We will follow when we can!"

Sasrin thought this was ridiculous, the inside of the inn was on fire! But he couldn't think of a better idea. Sasrin readies himself for the jump, and soon finds himself falling down to the hard wood of the broken inn. He had landed on the top floor, he realized. He looked back to see if the others would follow. To his disappointment, he saw no one join him. He felt weak about being alone now, but remembered the order he was given and turns back around to obey happily in the thought of this nightmare ending. Sasrin takes another large jump down into the lower level of the burning building. He is now faced with his own choice, one he can choose on his own. He could make a run for it and try to climb the wall, or find some other exit, or hide in a building until this all has passed. His feet worked before his thoughts, moving forward just a bit more to see his path be blocked by burning wood and collapsed housing, then his head turns to see two Imperial guards pulling that Nord child he saw ushered into a house earlier to safety.

Sasrin is unsure what to do, if he should help those who almost beheaded him, or if he should go his own way, which he about does as he starts to walk towards them. A shadow rolls over the ground quickly, forcing the Khajiit to look up to see the large black dragon fold it's wings to land just a few yards in front of him. The weight alone makes Sasrin stumble back. Not wanting to get any closer than he already is, he turns to run with the Imperials when the familiar look on the dragon's face shows an incoming attack. Sasrin is able to make it behind the burning building just in time as well as the Imperials and child, who is shielded by the two guards.

Mercifully, the dragon takes off once again after another powerful blast of fire escapes it's mouth. Sasrin turns to see the others with him to make sure they are safe. His eyes widen a little as he is able to recall the face of one of the guards as the man with the list before he was sent to the block. The man seems to be able to put a face on Sasrin as well, for he stood up to speak to him.

"Still alive, prisoner?" The thoughts that had went through Sasrin's mind begs him to run from this man, he might want the Khajiit dead if he gets the chance, but the next words out of his mouth change his mind quickly. "Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." His head turns to the other guard who still had the child with him. "Gunnar, take care of the boy! I have to find General Tullius and join their defence."

This is not what Sasrin wanted to hear at all. He wanted to hear that they were leaving immediately to a safe place. What do any of these people know about fighting a dragon? What does anyone know about fighting a dragon? No one thought they were real!

The Imperials give each other a nod before Gunnar replies, "Gods guide you, Hadvar."

Hadvar looks back over to Sasrin. "Stay close to the walls, Khajiit."

Obeying these orders as they start to run again, Sasrin's eyes are kept to the sky, looking for the dragon. Getting little glimpses of it before he looks to make sure he doesn't trip as he runs down some steps, but when he looks back up, he is nearly touching his nose against the wing of the dragon. While he was looking away, it had landed on the wall beside them with a thundering thud. Hadvar had already gotten lower to the ground so the dragon wouldn't see them. Sasrin follows as he watches the dragon send another breath of fire down onto a single man to completely melt every bit of flesh on his body, leaving nothing but charred muscle that won't even let blood ooze from the wounds literally everywhere. Again, the dragon takes off in search for more victims, and Hadvar also stands up to move again. "This way, come on!"

Sasrin is lead to another burning building that promises no haven. Passing by and the two come to an opening where multiple Imperials are battling the dragon with their bows. Hadvar finds General Tullius in the bunch and takes a moment to speak with him about what the General plans on doing. As Tullius sets his eyes on Hadvar and the prisoner, he orders the both of them. "Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we are leaving!"

That is exactly what Sasrin wanted to hear. His mind filled with relief as the possibility of survival increases much more from having given this news, and Hadvar turns to relay the instructions back to the Khajiit. "It's you and me, prisoner, stay close!"

Once again, he obeys by trailing Hadvar. As he passes under a bridge, the deadly shadow of the dragon swoops over. Though he is unable to see where it had landed, instead, his pace just quickens for the doors they headed for. Along the way, he is met again with another familiar face; Ralof the Stormcloak. He is now wielding a sword, like Hadvar, and they both stop a good distance from each other when Hadvar calls him out. "Ralof! You damn traitor! Out of my way!"

Sasrin stands behind Hadvar, watching the two as well as the skies. He thought the dragon is more important than the feud between these two but didn't speak his mind. "We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time."

"Fine." Hadvar replies. "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde."

After that, they pass each other. Sasrin's eyes set on Ralof's when he walks by him as well. "You, come on, into the keep!"

Sasrin looks forward to Hadvar, then back at Ralof. Both are waiting for him. Both are looking for an answer in his footsteps. As if the decision will add the Khajiit to their ranks. It was a quick thought, though, for Sasrin. He began to move to Hadvar. He is used to Imperials, even if they had almost killed him just now, and being a strong force in practically everywhere he had gone so far, opposing them seemed like the worst idea. Plus the Stormcloaks are the reason he was captured in the first place. As said by the late Lokir, he would be halfway to Morrowind by then, but instead was forced to watch multiple people die today, as well as have many close calls himself. Hadvar opens up the door for the approaching Khajiit as he looks past him to glimpse at Ralof, who shook his head before disappearing behind the door himself. Watching the door, Hadvar speaks to Sasrin. "Quick, I can cut you loose inside the keep." Then, he follows inside himself.

Sasrin looks around the stone safe room. He is breathing quickly as his eyes move around to gaze at the beds, swords, and footlockers at the ends of the beds, wondering about what would have happened if the dragon hadn't shown up. This made him feel simple minded, he would be dead of course.

"Looks like we are the only ones who made it." Hadvar says as he turns the Khajiit around and raises a dagger to the restraints around his wrists. Sasrin winces at having a blade so close to him, but no pain is given to him, only relief when the wraps fall off his wrists. "Was that really a dragon? The bringer of the End Times?"

Sasrin had stayed still as he ran his fingertips through the white fur on his wrists, watching the fur as he tries to keep it from sticking to his wrists anymore, but he doesn't reply. Still in shock, little alone used to being cut off, Sasrin remains quiet as he looks back up at Hadvar, who seems to understand. "We should keep moving. Take a look around, there should be plenty of gear to choose from." Sasrin nods, then looks back around at the swords hanging on the walls as Hadvar continues. "I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns."

Sasrin turns back to the Nord, looking along his face and arms to see what burns he talked about. Sure enough, some areas on his body were damaged, which made the Khajiit suddenly aware of his own body and possible burns. Feeling up his arms, chest, and face, he is unable to find any damages, which he is more than happy to find, then goes back to searching for what gear the man talked about.

The first chest he finds contains five pieces of gold and a helmet, like the one the other Imperials had worn. Picking the leather armor up to set it to the side, his fingers go for the gold in hopes that Hadvar isn't looking. A little bit of shame crawls over Sasrin for taking the gold. But he cannot help but think that no one is going to use it if he doesn't take it, since they are probably out fighting a dragon and all. The chest is soon closed, and he crosses the room as Hadvar speaks to him again. "Look, there's a helmet on the ground." Sasrin turns his head to look at the armor he had left on the ground, then back at Hadvar. He tilted his head towards it. "See if there's any more armor for you."

"For what?" Sasrin broke his silence. The lack of a typical Khajiit accent in his soft and quiet voice almost stumpt Hadvar if his ears heard him correctly. But soon he realized how dumb the question was. There's a dragon just outside the wooden doors picking people off the ground to drop from 50 feet in the air. That's for what.

But Hadvar could understand the armor wouldn't do anything in that situation, having seen the fiery breath's damage on someone as well. But with a sword, it could save the little cat's life. "We could run into trouble. You'd need to be prepared."

Sasrin walks back over to the helmet he had set down, looking around the leather plating before raising it up to his head and adjusting it over his ears. The uncomfortable position it puts his flimsy ears in is enough for him to pull it back off, but Hadvar didn't allow him too by pushing the helmet back down. "Just wear it, we don't have all day in here. Pick up the sword as well."

Sasrin had never swung a sword before, this was rather concerning for him to be picking one up with the inevitable promise of danger the Imperial had told him about. Bringing the rim of the helmet off from over his eyes, he looks up to Hadvar and lets his head turn to the side before he walks off to where a sword hangs on the wall, soon picking it up. The weight of the sword surprises him, but he soon adjusts before looking back to Hadvar. The Khajiit in rags and a leather helmet wielding an iron sword just looked simply pathetic to him. So much that he had to shake his head and look around for some armor to fit the cat into.

Minutes passed by before Sasrin was ready to move. He was dressed up in Imperial leather armor and wielded the iron sword in an awkward position. But this was as well as Hadvar was going to get with him, so he let it pass. Opening the gate up, he leads Sasrin through the tunnels. "We need to keep moving, that dragon is tearing up the whole keep."

The roars were muffled, but ensured the danger was lurking outside still as the two made their way to another gate. Voices are heard on the other side, but Sasrin cannot see who was making them because his distance from the gate. The voices seemed tired, and when Hadvar had heard them, he stops trying to open the gate to look into the room to see the two people who had been talking. He turns back to whisper to Sasrin. "Hear that? Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them."

That sounded like a fantastic idea to Sasrin. Avoid fighting and live to tell the tale like you did. He nodded to let Hadvar see he is ready to open up the gate. The resting soldiers turned to look at the approaching men in Imperial armor, the Khajiit still holding his blade out. This might have been Sasrin's fault that they pulled their own swords out to fight back without saying a single word of kindness to show they want to just pass. To ensure this thought, one raises his hand to begin to swing at Hadvar. The trained soldier was quick to react, pulling his own sword out to block the attack. "If you want to die, so be it!" He exclaimed.

Sasrin was very afraid of the situation he was just introduced to. He would always play with wooden swords as a child with his friends, but that was never skill, mostly just him running around a well as they chased him, eventually turning to climb onto the well to look like a pirate with the higher ground. But this wasn't child's play, this was a real fight, with real swords, and real blood shed. His weapon was already drawn, but unlike Hadvar, was completely unprepared for one of the Stormcloaks to attack him, where a hard slash had just grazed one of his arms by merely dodging. His skillful cowardice worked to keep the Khajiit from losing his arm, but the stinging pain of a long cut up his snow leopard fur was felt real and almost like he had lost his arm. He had never even broken a bone before, but here he is, trying to shield himself with the one good arm he has left as his eyes widen. The Stormcloak didn't seem to care about the skill the Khajiit didn't show, but instead was set on seeing him on the cold ground to feed the worms.

Sasrin is able to block off a few hits, but after that, he is forced to drop his sword to the ground from one of the harder hits introduced to his weak arm. This is the second time today he was on the ground and looking up at a larger, stronger male with his long weapon ready to be shoved into his throat. The thought that there is no mythical creature to save him in this situation makes him cringe in defeat and awaits death. However, he has been teased by Grim once again, for the other Stormcloak came unintentionally crashing into the male standing over him. It wasn't a mythical creature, but it will do. Sasrin quickly pushes himself up from the ground as Hadvar runs to the two who were tripping over each other just behind the Khajiit. Picking up his sword to prepare for another attack from the Stormcloaks, Sasrin quickly turns to see that one had been impaled by Hadvar, and the other cried out in the loss.

Her attention was completely drawn off of Sasrin before he realized that it would probably be a good idea to attack at that moment. In which he did. Letting out a pathetic battle cry, the Khajiit lunges to the battling rivals and is able to sink a fairly good length of his sword through the Stormcloak's side, up her breast, and out her shoulder.

The impact surprised Sasrin, realizing that it took a lot more strength than he realized to impale someone. The damage wasn't over, however. He pushes the Nord into the wall. The impact makes her arm snap. It seemed she would have cried out in unimaginable pain at the attack, but no noise came from her mouth. Slowly pulling himself back from the wall, Sasrin looks down at the woman when she falls, realizing that he had killed her.

This makes his fur stand up on end, and breathing become quicker. Eyes dart around the body over and over again for a sign of life, not wanting to believe he had become a murderer. But was he? She had attacked him. So did the other Stormcloak. This was a battle, and they have lost, he has won. He breathes in through his nose and clenched teeth at the same time when a hand grips his shoulder suddenly, reminding him of the cut. He looks down to the cut first, then alarmed that someone was touching him, and without his sword, his next choice for self defence was his claws that were soon extended to attack.

"That was weak." Hadvar had said to Sasrin when his claws landed into the armor over his belly. Not only was this embarrassing to the Khajiit, but also disgraceful to attack someone on his own side.

"S-sorry! I wasn't sure who was-" He was cut off by himself this time in a gasp of sharp pain. What a master of speech he is.

Hadvar began to look over the wound, running his finger along it to see if the cut is deep. "You're a lucky one, any closer and your arm might've been cut clean off."

Sasrin looked to his arm as well to see if he were telling the truth, but he couldn't tell how deep the cut was. Just that it hurt. A lot.

"Maybe we can find you a priest when we get out of here, that should make you feel better. For now, wrap it up with whatever cloth you can cut from the Stormcloaks." Hadvar continued. But Sasrin had his own ideas. His left hand was raised up and glowing a light tan color as he drew a breath in slowly. Hadvar was only able to stand in silence when he watched the wound on Sasrin slowly begin to seal, as if it hadn't happened at all. "Magic, huh? I wouldn't have guessed. Are you a priest?"

Sasrin looks up to Hadvar and shakes his head. "Bar fights, mostly...I cannot heal others." The wound has completely faded, but the blood stayed.

"Bar fights? I wouldn't have guessed that either. You don't seem like one to do much fighting." Hadvar says.

Sasin shrugged a little. "People started to get tired of finding fur in their mead, really."

"That would do it." Hadvar gives out a chuckle. "What did you say your name was again?"

Sasrin opened up his mouth to speak, hesitating for a second. He had almost revealed his actual name, not the one he just made for himself just a few minutes ago. That might've been bad saying two different names, but...This also might be a chance to change his name from male to female, if the Nord truly didn't remember. Should he take the chance? Hadvar noticed the second hesitation from the same question and cocked his brow. "You seem to be slow about telling it. Why is that, Khajiit?"

Sasrin just wanted to get out. He wouldn't mind if they ran into another group of Stormcloaks on the way, he just hoped to get out of this situation. But he could tell the suspicion rose more and more the longer he stayed quiet. So he had to make a decision. Girl name? Or boy name?

The Khajiit didn't need to check his pants to answer the question, it was as clear as day for anyone he would come across. Even if his figure looked as small and feminine as it is. Time to change his name. But to what? He didn't know many Khajiits, could it just be something he comes up with at the top of his head? In his mind, time was up.

"Kaz." He blurts out.

Hadvar blinks at him before replying. "Kaz?"

"S-short for...Kaz...azhid. Kazazhid." Kaz nods to reassure himself.

"I swore it ended differently."

"My nickname." The Khajiit answers quickly.

"You gave a nickname to-" Hadvar is cut off soon by a crumbling noise coming from the next room, followed by the deadly roar of the attacking dragon. After a silence falls on the room for a few more seconds, both of the men to hesitate before slowly making their way down the steps to see what damages were just around the corner.

Either the dragon's screech was what made the hall of stone walls cave in, or it's weight, but it was definitely a dead end now. "Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easy." Hadvar huffs. Luckily, there was another option near by. A door that wasn't blocked or locked, just perfect for walking thorough. "Through that door, Khajiit."

Kaz was almost disappointed from thinking that Hadvar would have used his new name right away, but brushed it off in the thought of freedom. He nods and reaches out to open up the door slowly. Peeking in cautiously before stepping in and looking around. People were talking, but he couldn't see where they were, and by the sound of it, they weren't familiar with their surroundings either. Hadvar had listened to their intentions and pulls Kaz closer to whisper his own plans. "Their backs are turned, let's do this quietly. I'd rather avoid another fight today."

Kaz had nodded, then slowly peeked his head out around the corner to see their foes. Their prediction was right; more Stormcloaks.

Following Hadvar, the two close in on the unsuspecting soldiers. They continue their search through a barrel as they talk to another before silenced by blades. This was the second time Kaz had to kill someone today, or in his whole life, and he was feeling sick about it when he watched the bloodstained blade pull out of his victim's back. _What if I were in that position?_ The body fell to the ground as his eyes are forced away in regret. _But I guess they wouldn't have tried to reason with the armed Khajiit in Imperial clothing either._ He thought. To rid his mind of the thought, he walks to the next door to continue their exit route, Hadvar on his heals.

Hadvar had recognized the area they were traveling to and made his familiarity public. "The torture room." he explains. This sent a shiver down his back at the thought. "Gods, I wish we didn't need these..."

Kazazhid couldn't agree more. Torture sounded far worse than death, even if it eventually lead to it.

Speaking of death, when they enter the room, they are met with freshly bloodstained floors of two Stormcloak soldiers. Standing above them were who had made the mess, and get paid for it; the Torturer and his assistant. Hadvar puts away his sword when he sees them before stepping up towards them.

"You fellows happened along just in time." The Torturer says, his hand still gripping the blade that had slain the poor soldiers below. Kaz found his voice to be somewhat soothing, but seeing him dressed in all black and masked only meant he dealt with death daily. Having to have a bad first impression with someone else who was clothed in all black and masked just minutes beforehand, he isn't interested in spending more time here. "These boys seemed quite upset at how I'd been entertaining their comrades." That sealed it for Kaz. This is the last place he wanted to be, and showing so by stepping behind Hadvar just slightly and looking around with a bit of eagerness to leave.

Hadvar still had the current situation at hand. "Don't you even know what's going on? A dragon is attacking Helgen!"

Cracking a grin as he continues, the torturer cannot help but snicker. "A dragon? Please. Don't make up such nonsense." His face begins to relax once more in thought. A hesitant continuation follows. "Although...Come to think of it, I did hear some odd noises coming from over there."  
Hadvar nods. "Come with us, we need to get out of here."  
"You have no authority over me, boy."

This almost seemed like an insult to Hadvar, as his voice raised. "Didn't you hear me? I said the keep is under attack!" He looks back to the Khajiit behind him. Kaz has wandered over to the cages with skeletons and a dead mage inside one of the three cells, showing particular interest in that cage.

A deeper voice rises from the silent Assistant, who had been cleaning his blade up as he listened. "Forget the old man. I'll come with you."

Hadvar hadn't taken his eyes from Kaz until he turns over to look at the Torturer, walking on over to the cat. He could see what Kaz was so interested in. "Wait a second. Looks like there is something in this cage."

"Don't bother with that." The Torturer explains. "Lost the key ages ago. Poor fellow screamed for weeks." He steps off to the side and puts his blade down on a table.

Kaz had looked back at the approaching Nord. His ears standing up on end at attention when Hadvar opens his mouth to speak. "See if you can get it open with some picks." Hadvar starts to walk away as he looks towards the armory. "We'll need everything we can get."

The torturer had said something in spite but no one really had listened. Kaz had turned to stand up as well. Making his way towards the other side of the room in a bit of excitement that he can show off some of his skills now. Though they might not be the most respectful skills, it's something they needed right now. Sure enough, there are a few lockpicks hiding in a knapsack on a table next to a book.

The book is black. All black with a silver insignia on the cover, showing off the symbol of the Imperial dragon. This had caught the cat's attention. Tilting his head at it before picking it up along with the lockpicks. His eyes roam around the sides of the book to show it is a bit lengthy. The title is revealed to be "The Book of the Dragonborn."

Kaz would read all the time when he was younger. Books were his favorite past time. How he longed to go to a college and learn actual things back when he lived in Daggerfall, and this is one he hasn't seen before. What is better than that? The cat looked up to the knapsack and takes it. The book fits inside the knapsack and is slung over his shoulder. After pulling the four lockpicks from the new knapsack he had gained, he starts back towards the cage and begins his luck at lockpicking again.

It is open with ease, making the cat fill with pride that it was so easy. As the door squeaks while opening, the Khajiit puts the lockpicks back inside of the knapsack and heads towards the body lying in the corner of the cage. The Khajiit first grabs the coins hiding with the dead man before putting the potion inside the knapsack as well. Then, he picks up another book, one with a different symbol on the cover. His fingers graze across the indented cover before he opens it up, starting to read to figure out what he had gotten his hands on finally.

Minutes must have past as he dove into a spell tome, and he even started to work the motions with his hands if he had to use what was in the book. Hadvar had bumped into the cat and ushered him to leave. "Grab what you can and let's go." He told Kazazhid.

The Khajiit nods and stands up with the book still in hand as they continue down the pathway, away from the torture room. Calling up to the leaving trio was the Torturer, "There's no way out that way, you know." Kaz only gave one last glance back at the man before continuing down the path. His eyes gaze along the walls and the cells that line along the hall.

Continuing down the path, they are lead into an even deeper, what seemed to be darker part of the torture room. There was a skeleton greeting them at the entrance, or two of them, bounded in suspended cages. Kaz understood the punishment they were given, and even believes that they might have been hung up around town for the locals to mock as they slowly starved and died. This idea gave Kaz shivers. He turns his head away and walks faster to catch back up to Hadvar and the Assistant, who had been gazing in a hole that didn't seem to be made for good reasons.

As odd as it seemed to the Khajiit, no one else seemed to care about it. Instead, they walked on through. Kaz couldn't understand what it was with these people of Skyrim. It seemed like they would make a big deal about a break in if it was what actually happened and how their enemies got into the torture room in the first place. Or maybe they knew something he didn't know? Nords are strange. No one even questioned the torches that they met on the way down the makeshift hall.

As they approached a bigger room, the three slowed their speed and started to walk quietly as they were met with voices coming in from the other room. The cat raises up his ears to hear better. Another encounter with the Stormcloaks was about to be made. Kaz slugged the knapsack off of his shoulder and started to put it away. After it was safe and sound, he reaches for his sword, then halts dead in his tracks. Looking around his belt, he soon makes a jump for Hadvar and gets his attention by pulling his shoulder, whispering. "I forgot my sword..!"

The nord was almost insulted from the look he gave on his face. He turns to look out into the big room filled with four or five Stormcloaks before back to Kaz. "Stay down and back, but if you have another way with helping us out, do it." He turned to ready up for the battle with the Assistant.

Kaz grabs his shoulder again and pulls him back around, getting a little closer with another bit of pride rising up inside him at the thought. "I know a little bit of magic, but it isn't much. Like spells?" His tail has risen above his head, waving it eagerly. "I found another book in the cage with that mage."

"Alright, alright, go ahead and try it out, but be safe and watch where you are casting those spells." Hadvar had ordered before once again turning around, pulling out his sword to run to battle.

Kaz had waited for a few seconds after he watched the first clash begin, then darted past the dueling bunch. Two Stormcloaks were in a locked battle between the Imperial soldier and the Torturer's Assistant as he ran by. He is then met with the sound of an arrow rushing past right in front of him, his head turning when the metal and wood rolls around on the ground behind him, starting at two archers aiming right at him. With a quick thought, he jumps to the ground, just barely missing another shot aimed right for his head.

The feline shows off his agility as he moves from place to place behind stone pillars to evade the killer's deadly shot. He finally halts his progress behind a pillar, panting hard. He was hardly daring in the first place, and now he was going up against two people who were trained archers pointed right at him.

Looking to his left, he is able to see the ongoing battle between now five individuals. Kaz hoped that the Torturer had come to his senses and helped out to escape, but the Khajiit soon realized that wasn't the case. Another Stormcloak had come to help their comrades, and the situation felt impossible to beat anyone.

Kaz was still willing to try. He looks to his bare white hands and breathes in slowly to gain his breath back. As he breathes out, he closes the hand over itself and points the closed palm away from him, soon opening it up and flexing as he does so, then releases, like how the spell tome had said for him to do.

Fire shot straight from his hand and against the ground, making the cat jump up in surprise before he closes the hand again. His face grows a smile, eyes widening at his accomplishment. He could still feel the heat of the fire against his fur, and after looking around the corner to debate on what to do again, his mind is soon made up. The opposing soldiers were standing on a colored floor, but not from someone paining, but from the broken lantern above them. Kaz looks up to his right to see another lantern just above the flammable liquid and flexes his hand again. Once more, fire was shot from his palm, and after quickly singeing the rope, the lantern drops down. The sudden combination of the liquid hitting the open flame caused a big explosion. Kaz had moved back behind the pillar and waited while listening to the roaring flame he had created.

It was the worst thing he had ever heard. Though his goal was to get past the two that were opposing him from leaving peacefully, this is not how he wanted it to go. His hands cover his ears after a minute of the loud screaming, crying, and sounds of just utter pain filling the lungs of the poor Stormcloaks, as if the smoke from burning cloth and flesh wasn't already filling their lungs. Having a good sniffer himself, Kaz couldn't help but sniff the air when the aroma gets around. He cringes at the taste of death.

When the cries stop, he turns his head around the pillar. Two scorched and charred figures laid on the ground just in front of the entrance. Kaz has killed four people today, that must have been a record for anyone, in his mind. Turning back around to cope with the criminal deeds, he starts to pant heavy again. So happy about his magic powers, and he can't even celebrate as it was used to take lives.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye. Turning to see what it was, Kaz raises his hand defensively in case his companions had failed in their battle, and it looked like they didn't. Hadvar was walking on over to Kaz while he stood up, still panting. "I-I think we won..."

"I don't think we did, I know we did." His eyes were much more confident that Kazazhid's. Kaz could tell that this wasn't his first time doing this sort of thing, if the previous encounters wasn't enough to tell him that. "Sadly, the Assistant was taken by a war hammer. The brave Nord took down two of those bastards before falling himself, and that explosion you made gained me the upper hand. Nice work, Khajiit."

Kaz straightened up as he spoke, and was feeling better by the compliment. He shows a little smile before looking back towards the entrance they fought for. Let's hope that there is a way out of here..."

"There is, otherwise, those Stormcloaks wouldn't be able to get in." Hadvar grabbed the back of the cat's neck and lead him around the corner. The floor was burnt and lead to the bodies of the guards, letting Kax trail his eyes along the charred floor to the bodies. He looks away and shuts his eyes, being lead by Hadvar's rough hands.

They are soon blocked off by a wooden bridge. It was a temporary blockade, because soon Hadvar opens up the next room with the pull of a lever that was by him. "Let's see where this leads." He says, letting the bridge fall. As the area opens up, Kaz looks out into the next wide open room. It's a cave. Kaz didn't mind this at all, but the air was getting colder, and this is something that he hated. Cold weather always bothered the cat. He couldn't wait to get some sort of fire going. His ears raise up in the realization that he can create his own fire now, so he can be warm anywhere.  
The wooden bridge is soon broken up from rocks above falling over it, making the two who had just crossed it turn their heads back to watch the dust clear. "Damn it." Exclaims Hadvar. "No going back that way." The two are turned back around to face forward, starting to walk down the steps and on over to an underground stream. Kaz looked ahead to where sunlight had shown from a hole in the ceiling above, smiling at the thought that they might be getting closer. "I guess we are lucky that didn't come down on top of us." Hadvar continues, looking around himself. "We'd better push on. I'm sure the others will find a way out."

And the two did travel along their path. It was a short trip. They came to the back of the stream which the path had been blocked off by rocks. Hadvar looks around for an opening. Kaz examines the area above and it was clear that the rocks had fallen above to where they were now. "Hmm, that doesn't go anywhere." Kaz gives a nod while Hadvar turns and looks to an opening to Kaz's right. "I guess we'd better try this way." and the two set off again towards their unknown destination.

The cave walls started to show a lot of spider webs as they went through the cave, and eventually they came across what looked like an egg sac for a giant spider. Having read many books, the cat couldn't understand how they got so big. They continue into the room, covered wall to wall in huge webs. They near the center of the room as they look around, and Hadvar pulls his sword out quickly with a loud cry. Kaz turns his head to see what had happened.

It's almost as if that big black dragon wasn't the only nightmare that had came true, because a giant spider had fallen from the ceiling and speared itself onto Hadvar's sword when he raised it up. "Khajiit, set those webs on fire!"

Kaz then looked up and saw the reason why Hadvar wanted those webs on fire, and he obliged as fast as he could. Four more spiders had started to repel from the ceiling towards the two. Kaz could only focus his Flames on one at a time as Hadvar goes to fight the two large spiders that Kaz couldn't get to.

Two smaller spiders hang from the ceiling on thin strings, scorched and in flames, as Kaz runs to help Hadvar on his battle. The spiders were spitting strange white balls at the two, but they were easy to dodge. No doubt something to try to hold them down. Hadvar had started to swing his sword at the spider's legs before they finally start to be cut up. The spider makes a squealing noise before it backs up and the other spider moves to take it's place.

Kaz, as if acting like Hadvar's back up, comes up beside the spider and starts to use his magic on the large arachnid. The spider turns and backs away from the flames, but it's large hairs catch fire easily. Hadvar is forced to look away from the creature before moving forward to start swinging at the one he had wounded. The two soon finish off the spiders, and Kaz suddenly feels a great deal of drain in his body. His shoulders heave and he pants a bit hard. Curious on why he feels so tired, the cat looks for a wound around his body, but he can find nothing there.

Hadvar walks up behind Kaz and grasps on his shoulder to shake him up, grabbing his attention again. "Come on, you can't honestly feel bad for the spiders, can you?" Hadvar had been with Kazazhid for about an hour now, and he's grown used to his behavior after these battles. A bit sensitive and uneasy about the bodies they had created.

But to his surprise, Kaz shakes his head no. "I feel...exhausted. I think this magic is quickly draining me." He stands up straight and breathes in and out slowly. Holding his hands in fists as he regains his breath.

Hadvar opens up the knapsack on the cat's back, making Kaz's head turn back to watch in curiosity. The blue bottle Kaz pocketed in the cell at the torture room is passed up to him. "Here, drink this. I believe that's for when you mages get drained of your powers." Kaz takes the bottle and examines it within his own hold. "Better drink it all, just to make sure."

"What if those Stormcloak's poisoned it when they were snooping around the storage room?" Kaz says while he turns around.

Hadvar takes the bottle and opens the top up. The rim is brought to his nose and he inhales the fumes. The potion didn't smell good, but it wasn't poisoned. He holds the bottle back out. "No, not poisoned. Now hurry up, we might need that fire of yours again if there are anymore of those spiders ahead."

Kaz uneasily nods as he takes the potion. He breathes in quickly and holds the breath. The liquid is poured between his lips and is downed quite quickly. Keeping his breath within his body before widening his eyes and letting out a gasp. Energy surged through his body, sending his fur up on end. His ear tips create a little lightning bolt and spark above his head. He never felt so alive!

Hadvar had shown off a smirk to what had happened to his ears, forcing him to look up as he gives a chuckle. "Feeling better?" he asks, and continues when he receives an eager nod. "Good, let's move on." He turns his heels and looks up at the hanging spiders, then to the giant webs that seem to be holding dead animals. "What next, giant snakes?"

Kaz most certainly hoped that wasn't the case. Instead he hoped that there would be a giant feast if anything coming up in the cave they run off to. Kaz had a newfound quick step to his feet, though they still were bare against the cold, wet floor.

Luckily, the spider webs seem to stop. Instead, they're met with an open room with the stream they had followed before running through. This made Kaz happy, especially when he entered the room and was able to see some sunlight shining through onto a wagon. Hadvar and him approached the wagon, and as Kaz looked at the cart for it's contents, Hadvar had his eyes set ahead.

Kaz was upset there was next to nothing useful inside the carriage. He had gotten his hopes up quite a bit. An abandoned carriage in the middle of a cave? It could have been someone's stash of goodies! Or at least food or something.

"Khajiit, get low!" Hadvar whispers. The cat immediately drops and hesitates before looking up to the nord. Hadvar was staring off in the distance at the other ray of sunlight peeking down to the opposite end of the room. When Kaz looked, he was not able to recognize what they were staring at. Hadvar stuck his hand up to halt Kaz. "Hold up. There's a bear just ahead. See her?" Kaz could now recognize the black body laying on the stone floor, and gives a nod. "I'd rather not tangle with her right now. We might be able to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch your step." Kazazhid had already nodded in understanding, but Hadvar was open for second options. Or preparing for the seemingly clumsy cat to mess up. He leans over towards the cart and slowly pulls a longbow out from under it. He holds it back and out to Kaz as he looks back towards him. "Or, if you're feeling lucky, you can take this bow. Might take her by surprise." Kaz looks up to Hadvar as he slowly gets to his hands and knees, then reaches to take the bow from Hadvar, who nods at him. "Go ahead. I'll follow your lead and watch your back."

It honestly took Kaz by surprise. The cat hadn't ever really given orders, or lead anyone to do anything. He was just told to do something and he had done it. Now, given the spotlight, he is unsure of his decision. On one hand, they can take a quick, swift shot to the beast. But he had never shot a bow before, what if he missed? His eyes studied the wood, then blinked. There's no arrows! He turns his head to Hadvar, intently watching the cat for any suggestion in his movements. He shows off a frown when the feline whispers. "Sir...I don't have any arrows!"

"I thought you'd be more observant than that." Hadvar reaches over Kaz and pulls a quiver that was leaning against the wooden cart. Kaz could feel himself go hot with embarrassment as the quiver is slung over his body, looking down to the strap. "You even searched the cart." Kaz nods slowly, then looks at Hadvar. "I take it you want to fight?"

"Not...not exactly, sir."

Hadvar stared at Kaz with hard eyes. The snow pelted khajiit knew that he was thinking about something. He doesn't look too happy with Kaz at all. "Then why did you need arrows?" He asked, but it came out as a demanding question.

Kaz had lowered his chin and looked out to the side in growing embarrassment. His ears had laid down onto his head. "B-Because if we got caught on the way out..."

Hadvar's expression changed. That wasn't something he had thought about before, and it took his anger away slowly as he realized the Khajiit's good intentions. But it still doesn't excuse how unobservant he was. Recognizing Kazazhid's uneasiness now, Hadvar pats his arm and makes him look back up to him. "Good idea, let's move. Slow and quiet now."

Kaz had nodded again, then looked forward to lead them. He was very careful at where he placed his feet on the ground, and used his barefoot problem to aid on their escape from the bear. Kaz had only been looking forward, confident in his ability to stay quiet. He jumped from rock to rock and stayed balanced before quickly jumping to the next one, and eventually gets behind a rock out of the bear's view, if she decides to wake up. After making sure he's out of her sight, Kaz looks at Hadvar, who was trotting slowly behind. Obviously much more cautious to his step as he wore more armor, he continues after the cat until they meet again towards the exit. Hadvar looks, amazed, as he glances back to the bear who hadn't moved an inch, then to the cat once more. "You could have ran through, it seems, and she wouldn't have noticed."

Kazazhid wasn't sure if he should take pride in that, but it was good to hear that Hadvar was at least impressed by something. Giving one more pat on Kaz's shoulder, Hadvar soon takes lead once more and walks past the happy cat to their location at the end of the cave. The air started to get a little cooler as fresh wind was blowing into the room, circulating fresh air straight into their lungs. Kaz made his ears stand on end at the thought of freedom, and started to run after Hadvar once he notices the warrior's change in step as well. "This looks like the way out! I was starting to wonder if we'd ever make it."

Kaz couldn't agree more. There was nothing but what seemed like trial after trial in those damned caves. First against Stormcloaks, who all introduced something new to him. Killing with a sword, then sneakily killing with a sword, killing with fire, then...giant spiders. He shivered at the thought, and half because the rush of wind against his ears. Blinded from the first moments of sunlight, the cat squints and looks forward, as the reflection of the sun would have made his eyes hurt on the snow just below his already cold pads. Pretty soon, the first sight of Skyrim, as a free Khajiit, is given to Kazazhid.

He loved it.


End file.
